Project: Morph
by 13Q
Summary: A newbie Rocket Grunt gets Morphed. Not the average OMG Wangst!11! story! I SWEAR! Yay me! I now have a plot! XD
1. Morphing

**Project: Morph**

Chapter 1; Morphing

"Ready?"

The girl nodded, her straight, shoulder-length hair swinging forward to hide her dark-brown eyes. All the same, the man at the controls saw the look of terror that crossed her features.

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

The girl shook her head slowly, as if dreaming.

"No… I must. I'm not a coward. I'm not afraid." She was mumbling, talking to herself. All the same, the man heard her.

"Get in then," he said, indicating the plexi-glass tube. She stepped into the tube, willing herself not to tremble in fear as a techie attached IVs and wires to her arms and legs, and placing an oxygen mask over her mouth. The girl closed her eyes, and her breathing slowed as the sedative made its way through her veins.

She looked so vulnerable, so tiny, the man at the controls thought. She'd removed her usual black uniform, wearing instead a simple white hospital gown. If he had not known it to be her, the man would never have recognized her to be his daughter.

He turned to Giovanni, shaking away all thoughts of sentimentally. He had a job to do, and damn it, he was gonna do it right.

"We're ready to begin the transfusion, sir."

Giovanni smiled, a secret grin known only by him as he soothed the agitated Pokemon in his arms. The man cooed softly as he slid the needle in, filling the syringe with blood. He handed it to a techie, who inserted it into the green-plastic base of the tube.

The girl thrashed, the movements slowed by the thick liquid suspending her, and her heartbeat sped up as the unfamiliar DNA was injected into her body.

"She's fighting the transfusion," The man informed Giovanni. His mouth was dry, and his fingers shaking. His forced them steady. One mistake, and it'd all be over.

_Please let the transfusion be a success…_

He and his daughter both knew the dangers of this experiment. They both knew that the first six subjects died while morphing. The next four survived, but perished a few weeks later, the Pokemon cells in their new bodies too unstable. Only the last two Morphs had been successful. He wasn't superstitious, but your only child volunteering as the thirteenth subject for a project that had been going badly from the very start was enough to make any man nervous.

He watched, hoping, praying, as the girls body accepted the DNA and her body began to change, fur sprouting, a tail growing, hands and feet developing claws…

His head felt light as air, dark clouds blurring his vision. He pushed them back, sweating. He was NOT going to faint. His daughter needed him now more than ever.

It may have been hours later, or mere minutes that the teenagers heart rate and breathing settled to normal. Her body had accepted the new blood.

"Drain the tank!" Giovanni ordered.

The greenish liquid oozed through hidden slats in the floor, depositing the girl on the base. The door of the tube opened, and she fell forwards, too exhausted to support herself. The techie caught her, removing the wires. Her eyes opened, blinking blearily.

"Did… Did it work?"

"Yes," The man told her picking her up. She lay cradled in his arms, like a doll. She felt incredibly weak and frail, as if one wrong movement could snap one of her arms clean off.

"Good…" a brief smile crossed her features, before she closed her eyes, fainting from exhaustion.

The man smiled also.

"Sleep tight, Aisha,"

* * *

**Yeah, Aisha is the girls name. I dunno why I only decided to reveal it at the end. Ah well. That's me! I swear, this will NOT be the average OMG Wangst!!!11! Morph story. I'll give you a cookie if you can guess what sort of Morph she is!**


	2. Surprises

**Project: Morph**

Chapter 2; Surprises

"Hurrr…" Aisha struggled upwards, the bedcover tangled around her legs. She glanced down, and noticed that she was still wearing the same white hospital gown as the day before.

"Where am I..?"

She looked around, blinking until the room swam into view. She was in the tiny box-room that Team Rocket HQ had allocated for her living quarters.

"Might as well see what they made of me…" Aisha was not surprised at the hoarseness of her voice. She knew the risks – in fact, she was lucky that she could talk at all. The first few surviving Morphs couldn't speak at all, only able to make a low growling noise. She-d never make it as a pop-star now – not that she'd wanted to be one. And not that she'd be able to be one if she had. Anything half an octave above or below C flat, and she was a dead loss. Aisha pulled herself up, and walked stiffly over to the mirror.

Her dark-brown hair had been lightened to tan, and her face was somewhat catlike in appearance. Her body was cream-furred all over, and two large, rounded, cream-colored ears, tipped with black, sat on top of her head. A circular, ruby-red gem sat on her forehead, and a few whiskers sprouted from her cheeks. Her fingers held retractable claws, and she had a tail, long and slightly curled at the tip.

_I am a Persian…_

Someone knocked at the door. Moving awkwardly across the room, Aisha opened the door, marveling at the comparative lack of clumsiness. If she had been this stiff yesterday, she'd probably have tripped over her own feet by now.

"Yes..?" she asked the person at the door.

"You are Aisha Nyha?" he asked. Aisha nodded. "They want you in the training area in five minutes."

Aisha nodded again, and shut the door, yanking on her uniform. She had to poke a hole in her jeans to accommodate her tail, and hack off the fingers of her gloves to account for her claws. The boots were another problem. Her feet had grown considerably since yesterday, and she now needed a couple of sizes larger. She'd have to stop off at the store cupboard on the way to the training area.

She was just pulling on her new shoes when Cliff strolled into view. Aisha shivered. Cliff had scared her even before he got morphed. He was tall for sixteen broad-shouldered and handsome, whilst Aisha was short for fourteen, pale and skinny. He had mid-brown hair and greenish-blue eyes. Short tan fur covered his skin, and three tan tails, tipped with mid-brown tufts poked out of a hole in his pants. A ruff of mid-brown fur covered his shoulders, and on his forehead was a silvery oval.

Aisha tried to duck past him, but he caught hold of her and spun her round to face him.

"Let's be seeing ya, little morph girly," he grinned, looking her up and down. His mouth quirked into a smile.

"Persian. Good choice. It's small, pretty, and quick-tempered as hell. Much like you."

He gave a jaunty wave and sauntered off, leaving Aisha blinking stupidly. Had Cliff just paid her a compliment? Okay, not the small or quick-tempered bits, but pretty? She grabbed her brain by it's imaginary shoulders and shook hard.

_Shit-shit-shit-shit! I only have fifteen seconds to get to the training area!_

She sprinted off, and arrived thirtynine seconds later at the training area.

The techie didn't look up from his computer. "You're late."

"Sorry," Aisha panted, trying to catch her breath. "I got held up."

She would have added that she was only twentyfour seconds late, but she knew this particular techie, and it didn't pay to be rude to him.

After a few warm-up exercises, they began the tests. A couple of hours later, she dropped, exhausted, onto the bench along the side. Her speed had increased. At first she had fought the instinct to drop onto all fours, until she realized she could go faster that way. Her physical strength had decreased slightly, but she could now shred a man's face to ribbons with a well-placed Scratch attack. Her balance, sight, hearing and sense of smell had all improved.

"Y'O.K, Aish?" Celeste asked, sitting down with a thump next to her.

"Yeah, fine, thanks." Aisha grinned at Celeste.

Celeste winced as she shifted, jolting her huge dragonlike wings.

"Are they still bad?" Aisha asked, nodding at Celeste's orange-and-dark-turquoise appendages, her cheerful smile giving way to a look of concern.

"Painful. But I'll live." Celeste grimaced, her mangled voice grating in her throat. Her voice was noticeably lower than Aishas – perhaps because her DNA donor was a Charizard. "The techies say I'll never be able to fly, but I'll be able to glide short distances – if I can stand the pain."

With her long red-gold hair and orange eyes, Celeste had been beautiful, until the transfusion. Now stubby orange horns poked through her hair, and pointed claws tipped her fingers.

"I have a theory…" Celeste began.

"Oh no! Not another one!" Aisha laughed. Celeste had a different conspiracy for every day of the week.

"Yes, another one," Celeste said, pouting. She didn't really mind that her friend never seemed to believe her whacked-out speculations, but it would be nice if she did.

"Go on, let me hear it, then," Aisha teased.

"You'll like this one," Celeste informed her. "It's about the Project. You did say you wanted to know why they started it, anyway."

"Good point."

"Well, I think that it's happening because Teams Magma and Aqua have both got one going, and are planning to take over the world with them. Plus, Team Rocket doesn't wan to be left out. You know how the Boss is."

Everything seemed to freeze right then. Because one of Celeste's crazy theories was had finally hit home.

Every word of it was true.

And the whole world was about to be thrown into chaos like never before.

* * *

**I am SOO sorry, I couldn't think of a proper ending! Ah well, at least I now have a plot. If you see anything too Mary-Sue-ish, let me know, and I'll see what I can do to fix it. I won't be able to get all of it fixed because, you know, it IS a Morph fic.**


End file.
